Under a Violet-Sky
by Cassodembreankia
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Violet-Sky Barton never knew she was related to an Avenger. Until her parents were blown up and she found Hawkeye, her next-of-kin. (Rated T just in case-fairly clean. My first time-but second try of story I messed up. Please be nice)
1. Chapter 1

Violet-Sky let her fingers relax, her amethyst eyes intense. The arrow shot from her bow and embedded itself deep into her target. Her trainer—a boy less than a year older than her named Tristan—smiled. The center of the bull's-eye was pierced.

"Who's your favorite Avenger?" Tristan asked as she loaded another arrow.

"Hawkeye or Black Widow," she answered, taking careful aim.

"Why?"

"Because they're only human. They don't have a suit of armor or a hammer made by the Norse gods or big green muscles. They took on the Battle of New York with a bow and arrow, a gun, and skill alone," Violet-Sky said. She let the arrow fly.

"Do you even know their real names?"

"No. But I know they're SHIELD agents like us."

Commander Hall—their Supervising Officer—marched in, his brow furrowed.

"Cadet Barton," he barked. Violet-Sky snapped to attention, dropping her bow. Tristan rolled his eyes. He hated it when Commander Hall interrupted their training. If Violet-Sky ever wanted to be a full-fledged agent of SHIELD, he'd have to stop walking into her sessions. The girl's purple irises flared in shared irritation. She hated interruptions too.

"Yes sir!" she said. Tristan—following her diligent example—straightened himself.

"I need to speak with you. Immediately. My office. Change into civilian clothing," Commander Hall ordered.

"Yes sir!" she said loudly. Commander Hall marched away. Violet-Sky gave Tristan a quick hug and ran into the locker room. Maybe he was going to promote her! Oh, her parents would be so proud! Finally, she was making some headway in her life! Something fantastic was finally going to happen. She unzipped the front of her training clothes and slipped a Styx rock band T-shirt over her head. She yanked on some sweats and Converse sneakers.

* * *

"Your father's brother's son is dead," Director Fury told one of his best agents. "He leaves behind a seventeen-year-old daughter. Her whole family is dead. She doesn't know this yet. She's one of our cadets. Her Supervising Officer is telling her now."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Her whole family is dead. You are her next-of-kin," Directory Fury said. "She's a minor. We'll take care of her. But you need to legally be her guardian."

Hawkeye raised his eyebrows. "I'm not a care-giver," he told Fury.

"I know. But we don't have a choice here. Go downstairs and meet her," the SHIELD director ordered. Clint rolled his eyes and grudgingly marched away from the one-eyed man.

* * *

"No!" Violet-Sky protested. "No! They can't be dead! Mom and Dad promised they'd never leave me!" She fell into her chair, tears streaming down her face.

"They were blown up, I'm sorry," Commander Hall said. "It was a gas leak."

"But… who do I go home to? I've got no other family!" she asked. Her violet eyes were full of sorrow. Commander Hall stood up, circled his desk, and knelt in front of the cadet. He rested his long, pale, freckled hand on her shoulder as she shook with sobs. Her whole world had just turned upside down. She cried in a way she had always been trained not to. But her family was everything. It hurt like crap to lose them.

"We've found your next-of-kin, as it were," Commander Hall told her. "Your second cousin." He raised his hand and beckoned at the doorway. Violet-Sky turned around to see a man in a T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers standing just outside the doorway. He entered silently.

He definitely had the Barton-family resemblance Violet-Sky herself lacked. Light brown hair, blue-gray eyes, tan skin. She guessed he was in his mid-thirties, but his eyes held wisdom beyond his years. She noticed he was scarred. Under his T-shirt, muscles rippled. His arms were packed with muscles too. His eyes, wise as they were, were impassive. He was an athlete.

"Clint Barton," he introduced himself, his eyes instantly taking in the fact that her eyes were purple. He extended his hand to her. She took it and shook it, gripping his fingers powerfully. She could feel every single callous that affirmed he was athletic. She noticed he had a very light tan line around a portion of the inside of his forearm. It had a very definitive shape Violet-Sky would recognize anywhere. It was the tan line of an armguard. He wasn't just an athlete. He was an archer.

"Violet-Sky Barton," she replied, dropping his hand.

"Good strong handshake," he complimented.

"Thank you," Violet-Sky said.

"Mr. Barton here is now your legal guardian. You can either stay in the dorms here, or—if it's alright with him—go and live with him," Commander Hall interrupted.

"She just lost her family. She needs to be with me," Clint said. Commander Hall nodded. A look of knowing passed between them—something Violet-Sky easily caught. She wasn't as stupid as people thought she was.


	2. Chapter 2

"So… what do you do?" she asked him during the car ride to her home to get her things. She noticed his fingers were tight on the wheel.

"I'm a lawyer," he said.

"And an archer," she pointed out. "I saw the armguard tan when you shook my hand."

"It's a hobby," he replied evasively. His voice was flat and his eyes never strayed from the road. The silence dragged on for a long time as each Barton was wrapped in their own thoughts. Finally, Violet-Sky sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"For what?" Clint asked.

"For being thrust on you like this," she answered. "I can tell you're the type of guy who doesn't really dig family stuff. You seem more like the perpetual bachelor who doesn't want and/or like company." For the first time, Clint's eyes flicked over to her for a brief moment. She was very observant. Even though she was a member of SHIELD just like him, he couldn't tell her he was. She was a Level Two. He was a Level Six.

"It's alright. I'm sure I'll get used to it," he commented. Violet-Sky only smiled sadly, like she didn't believe him, but she didn't say anything more.

* * *

Her home was a lonely, dark thing on the far end of the street. The outside was shabby and dull, but the inside was bright. The backyard was huge, the grass scuffed from the flag football game Violet-Sky and her parents had played the previous weekend. She wondered what would happen to the place. She knew the courts would probably come and look around or something. She seemed to recall something about that in her History class about when a child was orphaned.

Orphan. It sounded so terrible. Like she was alone.

But she wasn't. Clint Barton was downstairs, looking out the window, his face impassive, but angry-looking. He had to take care of her. Something about that didn't sound quite right. Shouldn't he have been willing to take her in? If not, the state would put her in the foster system.

Maybe he _was_ willing. And as a lawyer, he told the courts in advance he'd be her guardian for the next year until she turned eighteen.

Violet-Sky shook her musings off and went straight to packing. She used her parents' suitcases as well as her own.

"Bring everything you can. I don't know when we'll be able to come back here for the rest," Clint called up the stairs. Already planning on doing that anyway, she set her jewelry box at the top of the stairs. She wondered what to do with her bookshelf. She grabbed another duffel bag from the attic and packed all of her many books into it. Too heavy to carry, she dragged it next to her jewelry box.

Her cousin mounted the stairs and picked up both objects like they were nothing. He didn't even struggle under the duffel bag. Violet-Sky was extremely impressed. She was strong—she worked for SHIELD for goodness' sakes—but eighty-plus books? Wow. He was one buff lawyer.

The next things she packed were her electronics. Her laptop, Kindle Fire, iPod, phone, and every charger. They went in another bag. Her hairbrush, her medicine, her toothbrushes, makeup, and other toiletries went into a very big purse. The four-hundred dollars she'd saved up babysitting over the past four months went in her pocket. The money she got working for SHIELD went directly to her bank account. She looked around. Her decorations would mostly stay—except the picture of her and her parents. Her clothes were packed. Her shoes were too, except for the Converse on her feet.

One thing remained. The dress. The purple gown given to her by her father for the Prom she hadn't been asked to. It hung in its plastic covering in her closet. It hurt her a bit to see it. Everything else was in Clint's car.

"It's pretty," Clint commented, noticing her standing there, statue still, staring at it. It had been specifically dyed to match her eyes. "Who'd you go with?"

"No one. I wasn't really liked at my school. I was going to go stag with some friends, but then…" she trailed off for a moment. "Then half the school was blown up, and Prom was cancelled."

"Can't you go this year? You're a Senior right?" Clint asked.

"Not really. I graduated early so I could work for a year to pay for college," she lied. She graduated a year early because SHIELD wanted her. Her parents had helped her get through her terrible Junior year lovingly. Now they were gone.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. My life's just weird," Violet-Sky insisted.

"Well, bring it. We'll find an excuse for you to wear it," Clint said. There was a mischievous glint in his eye and smile. Violet-Sky pulled the hanger off the bar and draped the amethyst gown over her arm. Clint offered her his arm. She took it, and they strolled down the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

**Not enitrely sure how to make an Author's Note, but here I go I guess. I forgot to put a disclaimer on the first two chapters (I hope Marvel doesn't sue me for that...) So, I own nothing but Violet-Sky and some ideas I have. I'll only update when I'm inspired to add more on (sorry) and have some ideas worth adding on. If there are any conventions errors, I'm sorry. I _do_ read over this stuff before I post, but whenever I do, I see a mistake right as I finish posting. Then I'm like "crap."**

* * *

"It's not much really, but it's home," Clint said as he unlocked the door to his apartment. It was much bigger than Violet-Sky had anticipated. She figured a wealthy bachelor, living alone, would have a smaller apartment (less to vacuum), with more elaborate furnishings. He had a large apartment, with more humble furniture. It was all covered with an extremely thin layer of dust—it was hardly lived in.

"Thank you. For being so kind to me," she said. He clapped his hands together.

"You're welcome. I could hardly ignore you. I know what it's like to lose family. I just wish there had been someone to take me in," Clint replied. He sighed. "Anyway, rules. Don't shout—this is an apartment not a house. Try not to run. Don't insult the landlord. That's basically it. If I think of anything else, I'll tell you." Violet-Sky smiled and looked around. Clint turned and looked her right in the eye. "Any questions?"

"One. Where's your laundry machine?" she asked. Clint laughed and pointed to a door. He could already tell she was a responsible kid.

It took them about three trips and fifteen minutes to get all of her stuff up to his apartment and into the guest bedroom—which became hers. She set a framed photo of her family on the desk and started to unpack, carefully organizing everything. Clint left her alone while she unpacked.

His blue-gray eyes haunted the back of her memory. He was more than a little intimidating. It was probably because he was a lawyer, and they had very commanding presences. But there was something more. His eyes held something else. He had this… sort of… _pain_, behind his eyes. And… he seemed a bit to rugged to be a lawyer. There was something about him that made her think of a rogue-type. But he was very clean-cut. Clean shaven, perfect hair in a careful style. He must have just had a bad past. That was it. She shrugged it off.

"You're interested in the Avengers, huh?" she asked, wandering into the living room to see the news was on—the reporter saying there had been nothing on them for a year and a half.

"Are you?" Clint retorted.

"Yup. They're cool," she said frankly.

"Which is your favorite?"

"Hawkeye or Black Widow. They took on the Battle of New York being only human. That takes extreme skill and bravery," she replied. She noticed at the mention of _Hawkeye_ Clint's eyebrow twitch. Silently, she filed it away for future reference.

"You know what I'm going to do?" he asked after many minutes of awkward silence.

"What?"

"I'm instituting Fridays as movie nights. If you're going to be here, I need to get to know you. We'll do Friday night movies," he said with a slightly childish smile. His phone buzzed. As he pulled it out of his pocket, Violet-Sky's amethyst eyes lighted his tan line again. "Yeah? Okay. No. Of course. How could I refuse? Look, I've gotta go, my second cousin and I are having a getting-to-know-you conversation. Yes Stark. Stark, I said I'd be there, and I will. I'm a man of my word. Of course she taught me that. Go away." He hung up.

"_Tony_ Stark?" Violet-Sky asked.

"I'm in quite a good position to be well-connected," Clint said. "So, will I need to drive you to work ever?"

"No. This place is a lot closer than my house. I can walk easily. Even in winter. I'm not scared of the city. But thank you for offering. Besides, you'll be busy lawyer-ing or whatever," she replied with a grin. Clint clapped his warm hand on her shoulder. She went over to the couch, dusted it off, and sat down awkwardly.

"Oh, that reminds me. Sometimes my cases take me out-of-state for a couple of days. Are you okay being here alone?"

"Of course, as long as I have a key to get in," Violet-Sky said. Clint tossed her a key.

"Do you mind me taking off for an hour? Stark needs me. You can get settled, eat something, make yourself at home," Clint said. Violet-Sky shrugged. Her cousin took off out the door. He didn't close it properly. She stood up with a smile and closed it. Maybe it was a good thing for him she was staying with him too.

She explored, though there wasn't much to see. Hanging on two pegs was a bow, a quiver of arrows on one of the pegs with it. There was a fancy armguard and tab draped over some of the arrows. She touched the bow delicately, trying to place what it was made out of.

* * *

"Who's your second cousin?" Tony asked as Clint walked in the door at Stark Tower.

"Violet-Sky. She works for SHIELD but can't know that I do right now. She just lost her family in a gas main explosion," Clint replied.

"So we've got a Baby Barton! A Hawkeye Junior!" Stark exclaimed. Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "A Mini-Barton! A Baby Hawkeye!" It was all Clint could do to not punch Stark for being so irritating. He clenched his fists in his pockets and said nothing for a long time.

"So, you wanted me to do something?" he finally demanded. Stark perked up.

"Yes! I would do it myself… but Pepper's over and I promised her a nice week," Stark said. "There's a not-very-good guy in Iowa, and I was told to go talk to him, but I can't for aforementioned reasons."

"That's a big word Tony," Clint commented. Stark smirked.

"I _am_ a genius remember?"

"Vaguely," Clint joked sarcastically. Stark chuckled lightly.

"So will you do it?"

"Yeah."

"Will your little Hawkeye the Younger be okay by herself? She could come stay here as long as she leaves me alone," Stark offered.

"I can ask her if that makes her feel better," Clint commented.

"Thanks Hawkeye. I owe you one," Stark said. Clint nodded solemnly and walked out.

* * *

**End Note: Thanks for the Reviews! Totally made my week when I logged on and saw people were liking this! (been working on it since summer) Thanks "m klindt" and "thunder strike 07" for being the first ones that I saw! (Sorry if there were any before them that I didn't see-thank _you_ very much too!) I got a review from a Guest that told me to update, so I'm hoping it's in the way that I'm thinking-of putting up new chapters and not that I've written everything wrong. :-)**

**THANK YOU!**

**~Cass**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thanks guys for the positive reviews! madame tango, you totally made my day! I logged on and was like: "YES! Another good review! People like my stuff!" (I'm sorry, I'm kind of immature sometimes)**

**So, I've been thinking about publishing another FanFiction I've been writing for a while. The problem is, I've been writing so many I don't know which one to do-and I don't know what to do with this one. Like how to end it and stuff. If anyone has any clean ideas (wouldn't usually put the qualifier on there but it could be rated K+ even though I put a T just to be safe), let me know, I'd love to hear what you think.**

**And if anyone sees a grammatical mistake that's just driving them crazy, zap me a PM or something and I'll fix it-unless I don't think it's wrong (then I probably won't). And if I left a word out on accident (I do that when I type fast and my brain is working too fast for my hands) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know. I hate it when I do that and I'm reading over it later and just go "Oh crap!"**

**So, uh, without further ado (and thanks for reading my ramblings), enjoy chapter 4 of Under a Violet-Sky!**

* * *

Violet-Sky sat on her bed, her tanned fingers tracing her fingers over her silver necklace chain. The diamond-surrounded amethyst charm glittered in the light from the open window. She heard the door open. For knowing him for less than a day, she could tell by the sound of the gait and the breathing that it was Clint.

"Violet-Sky?" he called. She looked up.

"Yeah?" She walked out of her room. He was looking annoyed.

"Tony Stark needs me to handle a case in Ohio," he lied. He was going to Iowa. "So I'll be gone for a couple days. He's offered you to stay at Stark Tower if you're not comfortable staying here."

"I'll be fine here. I'd probably burn the tower down. But that's a nice offer."

They didn't speak to each other until dinner time. Violet-Sky had been on her bed, staring at the dress hanging on her closet door. They hadn't found a use for it yet, though Clint promised he was thinking about one. She could hear him talking to someone on his cell phone in the other room, but couldn't make out what he was saying he was speaking so quietly.

Rolling his eyes, Clint hissed into his phone at his partner. "Natasha please, can you just call them for me? I'm busy trying to keep up this ridiculous pretense of being a lawyer for her. No, she's one of us, but she's only a Level Two. For some stupid reason Fury won't let her know who I really am. He's told everyone but her in the whole agency that she can't know… No I don't know why. Maybe you should ask him… Yes Tasha I know that this will be difficult. I'm sorry… Yeah. And guess what? She's an archer too. Her instructor is a Level Six eighteen-year-old named Tristan Warr… I know he rose through the ranks fast."

"Clint? It's five thirty, you hungry?" Violet-Sky asked, emerging from her room.

"Call you back later. Thanks," Clint said into his phone, hanging up. He turned to his young cousin. "Starving. What do you want me to make?"

"Lawyer living alone wouldn't 'make' much I'd imagine. How about I make rice and gravy?" she replied, taking a look in his fridge. He shrugged, a bit grateful on the inside. He couldn't cook very well. "With grapes and pears."

"Sure if you want," Clint said. He couldn't help but watch her purple eyes as she moved about his small kitchen, pulling things out of cupboards and occasionally asking where something was kept.

When dinner was done, Violet-Sky cleaned everything up and went into her room. It was seven-thirty, and getting dark.

"So what's your schedule for tomorrow?" Clint asked.

"I'll wake up at six, shower, get ready, go to work until about six, then come… here," she replied. He noticed she didn't say _home_. Something in her wasn't quite warmed up to living with him yet—and he couldn't blame her. It had only been a little less than a day.

"Good night Violet-Sky. Sleep well," Clint offered.

"Good night Clint," she said. She wanted to call him something else, something more… friendly. They were family after all. But nothing came to mind. She disappeared into her room, put on her pajamas, and went into her bathroom to brush her teeth. A two bathroom, two bedroom apartment was an uninteresting thing to come by in New York. She went back into her room and collapsed on the full bed, her face buried in the mattress and her feet hanging off the edge.

She felt like an intruder. It was awkward to say the least.

Clint knocked on her door. She grumbled a muffled "Come in." He opened the door and poked his head around it.

"Nightly get-to-know-you question," he said. She turned her head to breathe fresh air instead of mattress. "Favorite hobby."

"Archery," she mumbled. Raising his eyebrows, he gave her a quick, comforting hug, and bowed out of the room.

Climbing slowly under the covers, she relaxed. Quickly she fell asleep.

She dreamt about the Battle of New York. She wasn't a SHIELD agent then. She was just a boring high-schooler.

_She was on a crowded bus all by herself when the first wave of Chitauri came from the portal that erupted from the roof of the Stark Tower. The bus instantly stopped. They tried to get out, but they were trapped._

_ She didn't know how long she was in the bus, staring out at the destruction and havoc raging around them. She saw three of the Avengers nearby, though she didn't know who they were at the time. A few of the windows of the bus shattered. An archer in black, his bow slung over his body, helped get some of the younger kids out the broken windows. He went to the door of the bus and dragged it open. By the time she got out—letting older people and families out first—the archer had his back to her, making some remark about Budapest. All she saw was his short, light brown hair. He was too busy for her to go and thank him._

_ She went down to the subway, unable to help. She wasn't a SHIELD agent at the time, and there was nothing she could do._

She woke up with a slight headache as her alarm went off at six. She moaned and rolled unceremoniously out of bed. She took a quick shower and dressed in some normal clothes.

Apparently Clint wasn't up yet. She wrote him a note and took off.

At SHIELD, she changed into her combat training clothes and stretched. When she walked out of the locker room, she was greeted by Tristan.

"I'm sorry," he said. "About your family." She did her best—as she had all the previous day—to hold her tears back. She said nothing and went off into the training room. Before they started, Tristan gave her a hug. His strong, warm, calloused embrace felt more comforting than anything she'd felt in a long time. She took up her bow as she pulled away and shot the arrow straight into the heart of a fake human silhouette. "So that's how you feel about people huh?" Tristan joked.

"No. That's how my heart feels," she quipped.

* * *

**End Note: That memory/dream was so much fun to write. 'Cause I was like "They could Canonize this if they wanted to! It kind of fits!" (But I haven't read the comics so I have no idea if Hawkeye has any actual extended family or whatever. I was just having fun.)**

**Thanks again! You guys make me happy!**

**~Cass**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I keep having this crazy feeling like Loki should come and abduct Violet-Sky as some way to get the Avengers to do something he wants or something. But I think using Loki as a villain in so many other FanFictions I've read is getting a little cliche. I don't know if I want to make up a villain or have this one just be sort of anti-climatic (but I don't think that will happen-I can write some pretty dark/intense stuff). If anyone has any ideas, let me know, I'd love to hear them. I've been thinking about throwing in some old enemy of Hawkeye's I can make up, but Loki keeps coming back. **

**So, if any of my fantastic readers get an idea like "Hey, that's cool! I should tell Cass!" don't be afraid to. Who knows? It might be just the inspiration I need to get this story REALLY going again!**

**Thanks to all the amazing reviewers! You all totally make my day! To LeilaSecretSmith: Sorry. I try and mark the transitions with one of those big long lines that go across the screen. If you and I are thinking of the same transitions that is. If we're not, zap me a PM or something and I'll get it worked out. This is my first time publishing a FanFic and I'm not 100% sure of what I'm doing. And thank you so much for calling it well-written. You made me so freakin' happy!**

**Anyway, another ramble, over! Here's the great chapter 5!**

* * *

Clint's phone beeped. _Avengers' meeting. Stark Tower. Twenty minutes._ It was Natasha's number.

He got in his car and drove off for the huge building that was taller than even the Empire State Building. He parked under the tower and took the elevator up to the conference floor. Most of the others—besides Thor and Banner—were there. Tony was on the phone. By the conversation, he was talking to Dr. Banner himself.

"Doctor, it would take fifteen minutes for me to come get you, then fifteen minutes back. You could still make it to the meeting," he was saying. There was a pause. "Fine. Fine. You'll just miss out on all the fun."

"_Put me on speaker phone then," _Banner said loudly enough Clint could hear it. Stark did.

"So what's new with everyone?" Steve Rogers asked. He turned to Hawkeye first, who sighed.

"Well, I found out yesterday that I'm the closest living relative of a Level Two SHIELD agent who can't know that I'm an agent too until she reaches Level Six. She's an archer, a loner, and not like any girl her age I've ever met before. I don't know what to do with her and I barely know how to talk to her," Hawkeye replied. "I've told her I'm a lawyer and Fury told the whole agency but her who knows that she can't know me."

"So this is going to be interesting," Natasha put in.

"No kidding," Stark muttered. "On the bright side, once she finds out, we'll have a Hawkeye Junior!" Clint rubbed his forehead idly, wishing the billionaire would just shut up. Much as he didn't want to, the master assassin was starting to get attached to his young cousin. For being a SHIELD agent, there was something sweet and innocent in her. Innocence was a difficult thing to come by in SHIELD.

Natasha put her hand on Clint's shoulder. She could see the conflict in him about his young cousin. "You did the right thing, taking her in; even if it was on orders," she said comfortingly.

"I would have done it even if Fury _hadn't_ ordered me to. I know what it's like to grow up without a family. To be shoved in the foster system where no one really wants you. I could never condemn my own kin to such a thing. Even if she only has a year left to be in it," Hawkeye said. Natasha nodded knowingly. She knew exactly how much his past could hurt him. He never talked about it because of the complicated pain he didn't like to relive. "'Sides, with all the missions I go on, it'll be like she's living alone. She'll be fine."

"You're growing attached to her aren't you?" Natasha asked, a smile on her face.

"Hard not to, to be perfectly honest. She's sweet."

"Shocking given she's SHIELD," Tony commented, interrupting. Hawkeye rolled his eyes.

* * *

Fists clenched, Violet-Sky punched. Tristan ducked as her fist impacted with the black punching bag he was stabilizing.

"You have to _want_ it if you ever want to advance!" Tristan snapped. Violet-Sky's violet eyes burned with purple fire. The amethyst around her neck wormed out of her neckline and bounced on her chest as her movement intensified.

"I _do_ want it!" she spat angrily. Tristan smiled, running his hand through his black-brown hair. His brown eyes watched her.

"Then _prove_ it!" he ordered harshly. She started to move faster, strength pouring into her system. She didn't stop. Remembering to keep her fists up, she hit harder and harder. She was bouncing lightly to the beat of the music blasting painfully over the speakers, keeping on her toes. Neither of them knew how long they were there. She pounded so hard on the black leather bag her knuckles split open and bled. She started to cry from the exertion. But she kept going. Tears falling down her face—for her family, for all her anger, for the pain she harbored deep in her soul—she hit the punching bag so hard she knocked Tristan over.

He was panting almost as bad as she was. Her chest heaved against her tight combat clothes. Those violet eyes were still ablaze. There was an almost feral glint in them. She collapsed, sweat and tears mingling on the squishy mat they were on.

Gingerly, Tristan stood up and went over to her. She was trembling. Her muscles were taking the over-exertion hard. As they relaxed, they shook from being tense for so long.

He tugged on her braid. It was falling out after being whipped around.

"You do want it, don't you?" he asked, a cheeky smile on his face. She swatted at his hand weakly, like she would bat at a fly. Her breaths were coming in harshly, like it hurt her lungs to keep operating. Tristan poured some cool water over her face. She told him it felt good.

"Of course I want it," she whispered exhaustedly. Tristan stood up, offering her his hand. She took it gratefully and let him haul her to her feet.

"Rest," he ordered. "I'll be right back." Violet-Sky sank down onto a bench gratefully and set her head against the cool brick wall. Tristan went walking off. Before she bothered to see where he was going, she closed her eyes and let her breathing slow.

Her trainer marched in on Commander Hall without even knocking.

"Warr," the commander greeted. Tristan wiped some sweat off his face with his T-shirt and sat down on a chair opposite the desk from Commander Hall.

"I want her bumped up McKay," Tristan stated flatly. The Supervising Officer looked up at the use of his first name. No one ever used his first name. He was convinced no one actually knew what it was. But Tristan's dark eyes were serious.

"Who?" Commander Hall asked.

"Violet-Sky. I think she's ready to be Level Three," Tristan said. Commander Hall rubbed his fingers over his eye under his glasses. Tristan leaned forward. "She boxed so hard she _cried_ just now. She _does not_ cry; no matter how hard she works herself. I told her she needed to want it in order to advance, and she instantly upped her game. She hit the bag so hard she knocked me to the ground. I've trained plenty of recruits, but she's the first girl who's done that."

"You'll have to clear that with someone at the top of the ladder, not me," Hall said. Tristan grinned mischievously. He knew exactly which Level Six he would be asking. A certain archer who would understand exactly what was going on with his trainee. Thanking Commander Hall, Tristan stood quickly and dashed for the locker room to get his phone.

* * *

**End Note: What's going to happen to Violet-Sky now? The answer is: it's a surprise (partially because I don't know the full details yet either-hehehehehe :-S)**

**Hope you're still enjoying! Send me any of your ideas! They'll probably help! (even if they don't, it'll be good, fresh stimuli ;-) if you know what I mean)**

**~Cass**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: This was an interesting chapter to write. I know the story is... sort of slow, but I'm plowing through it, and I'm begging you to do the same. I'm trying to get it to pick up the pace soon, but I'm not 100% sure of what I'm doing with it... this is my first time after all. So PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE just keep reading. It's a work in progress...and aren't we all?**

**To "psycho-pyro-shrink": That is a brilliant idea. I'll see if I can somehow manage to weave that in there. I mean, the guy was Captain America's bad dude, and not exactly an Avengers one, but that's a good idea. It certainly helps stimulate my imagination! Thank you so very much for the suggestion. ****To "DatNatCatThoe": GREAT idea! I like that! I think it's a better idea than the one I had before. Maybe I'll use both of suggestions I've received. Clint's brother and Red Skull Team up! And soon! LOVE IT! ****To"S0U1 3AT3R16" Uhm... I don't know who Trick-Shot and Swordsman are. Have I mentioned before I haven't read the comics? I realize from someone's review Barney is Clint's brother (and I'm seriously considering that one right now), but I don't know the others. Sorry.**

**Without further ado, here be Chapter 6. (Bad grammar there was on purpose)**

* * *

Hawkeye's phone buzzed. He glanced at it. Seeing the Caller ID, he turned to Natasha. "It's Violet-Sky's trainer. I've gotta take this," he apologized. He stood and left the room. "Hello?"

"You need to bump Violet-Sky up to Level Three. I think she's ready," Tristan's voice said. "I told her she needed to _want_ it to go up in ranks while she was boxing a punching bag I was holding. Instantly her pace picked up. She hit it so many times with such force that her knuckles started bleeding and she started crying. She _never_ cries. She didn't even cry when I apologized about her family. She hit it so hard she knocked me over." Clint glanced back into the room he'd just left at Steve. He'd heard the super soldier could hit a punching bag so hard he could blast it off its chain.

"Really?"

"Yeah. And she's a crack shot with her bow. I hope you're proud of her," Tristan said. "I sure as heck am."

"Of course I am, but she can't know that—you know your orders," Clint replied. "I'll talk to Fury when I get back from Iowa and then we can get her promoted. In the meantime, don't tell her. Let's surprise her. Keep up the good training. I'm sure if she knew I was a SHIELD agent, she'd never shut up about you. As it is, she's under Gag. But you're a good man Tristan. Thank you." He hung up.

"What was that about?" Natasha asked as Clint reentered the room.

"Tristan wants to promote Violet-Sky to Level Three," Clint whispered as Steve and Tony got in an argument—again. Natasha rolled her emerald eyes and went over to them and shoved her way between them.

* * *

Violet-Sky was nowhere _near_ recovered by the time Tristan got back to her. He sat down on the bench next to her, gripping her knee to get her attention.

"In a real-life situation kiddo, the likelihood that you would _actually_ have to exert yourself in that way for that long is not very high," he told her. She breathed out a word that might have been _Great,_ but Tristan couldn't quite hear her through her panting. He watched her pitiful state. "Should I give you a break for the rest of the morning?"

His trainee barely shrugged. "If Commander Crisp Pants won't get mad," she muttered.

"Go take a shower and find a coffee shop to sit in and relax. I'll see you after lunch," Tristan ordered. Slowly, Violet-Sky complied with his command. As she walked out, Tristan stood up and started boxing the same punching bag she'd been using.

Violet-Sky found herself in a small coffee shop. She looked at the menu over the young cashier's head. "I'm allergic to caffeine. Do you have anything that isn't caffeinated?" she asked. The boy—who could not have been much older than her and Tristan—smiled. He had black hair, blue eyes, extremely pale skin, and cheekbones that were so sharp they cast shadows down to his chin. He was taller than Clint by a few inches, and very slim.

"We have hot chocolate, no matter what the season," he offered. "And the chocolate muffins are delicious."

"That's what I'll have," she told him. "A chocolate muffin and some hot cocoa." The boy grinned.

"Here you go," he said, handing her the bag. She pulled her debit card out of her wallet, but he held his free hand up. "It's on the house. You look like you need that." Carefully, she put the card back in her wallet and shoved it in her pocket. Her purple eyes—which people usually commented about when she went places like that—caught sight of his name tag. Myrddin.

"Nice to meet you _Mere-thin_," she said.

"You pronounced it right!" he exclaimed. "It's Welsh—"

"—for Merlin. I know," she interrupted with a grin. "I know the legends. Myrddin Emrys was the greatest wizard of all time according to them. Normal people know him as Merlin. I'm not uncultured."

"Never said you were," the cashier said. Violet-Sky went and sat by the window. The young man came around and sat across from her. "Mind if I join you?" She shook her head. The coffee shop—aside from the two of them—was abandoned. It was like no one that passed by noticed it. The young SHIELD agent liked it.

"This is a nice place," she commented.

"You're not much more than seventeen. Shouldn't you be in school?" Myrddin asked.

"I graduated a year early so I could work for a year to pay for college," Violet-Sky replied.

"I see," Myrddin murmured, more to himself than her. "You have beautiful eyes by the way." She blushed under her tan skin. He—unlike so many others—sounded sincere. Her eyes turned down to her hot chocolate. She took a tentative sip.

* * *

**End Note: Yeah. I hope you liked it. Thanks for all the great reviews. It would take me forever to thank everyone individually, so I'll thank you all collectively. Thanks for opening this story up when there were hundreds of thousands of others to choose from. It means a lot to me. I've been writing for years and finally I'm doing something with it. I've got several followers and favorites and reviews, and you don't know how siked that makes me.I feel like a... kid in a candy store (for lack of a better comparison). Thanks again! Tell me what you think! Hope some of you BBC Merlin fans caught my dorky reference. Because Myrddin Emrys was actually his name in Welsh! Merlin was the Latin-ized form.**

**~Cass**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I keep getting reviews that are begging me to "Update Soon!" Trust me *cough*Audrey*Whyte*cough* I try and update every five days or so. But sometimes... school. ("Nuf" said). And I think I've come up with something no one will expect. I liked the Red Skull suggestion I got, but my imagination just couldn't quite make it fit. But I got a review (sorry, I can't remember who it's from at the moment) suggesting something no one would quite expect. And since I haven't read the comics, this is in a slight AU where the Bartons' past is however I want it to be. Well, Violet-Sky's past is whatever I want it to be anyway. I made her. But Clint... I don't know most of his and I'm too busy writing to look it up. Sorry. Anyway, back to my original point, the "something no one would expect" I think I've got that all figured out - or at least... mostly. I have a friend who plans out their stories months in advance. I come up with vague ideas and beat them with a hose until they work with my story.**

**To "DatNatCatThoe": If you're thinking the cashier is sort of Merlin from BBC... you're pretty-dang right. It was just a slight reference I thought "Merlin" fans would appreciate. :-) To "S0U1 3AT3R16": Thank you for the enlightenment, but since I don't know them, I can't use them well. Sorry. To "Whangdoodle": Thank you for the idea, it was a good one. If I'd gotten it before some of the other suggestions, I probably would have tried to use it. As it is, I got the others first and took some inspiration from that. So sorry. I appreciate the thought though. :-)  
**

**Sorry I forgot to put this up yesterday. I had math homework and a party with friends. But it's up today!**

**Anyway, sorry for the long ramble. I have a bad tendency for that. Enjoy Chapter 7! (Does anyone think I should go back through and give the chapters names?)**

* * *

Hawkeye was back in his car. The meeting was over and had been relatively uneventful. No one exploded anyway. The archer leaned back into his seat and went driving back to SHIELD—until he saw Violet-Sky leaving a coffee shop, waving over her shoulder to a young man who must have worked there. He pulled over and honked at her. She turned.

"Hi!" she exclaimed.

"Shouldn't you be at work?"

"My boss gave me the morning off," she told him. At least she didn't have to lie.

"Well, in that case, take the rest of the day; I'm going to introduce you to Tony Stark and a few friends. Buckle up; we're going to Stark Tower. After you put on something nicer."

* * *

Violet-Sky was wearing blood red lipstick that looked an awful lot like the style worn in the 1940s. It shocked Captain Rogers slightly when she walked into the room at Stark Tower. She wore a light violet polo shirt, matching ballet flats, and dark skinny jeans. Her hair was brushed out and fell in waves. She also had on black mascara that made her eyelashes about three times longer. Steve couldn't help but stare at her for a very long moment. Then he remembered his manners. He pulled his hat off. She blushed under his gaze.

"Violet-Sky, this is Captain Steve Rogers of the US army," Clint said.

"Miss," he greeted, holding his hand out. Violet-Sky, her fingers cold, shook it. Steve's grip was firm, warm, and big. Her own grip was powerful. She noticed a dog tag necklace glinting on his neck.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she replied with a smile.

"And this is Tony Stark," Clint introduced.

"If it isn't Baby Barton. Clint here had mentioned you a couple times," the billionaire commented.

"Under that nickname?" Violet-Sky asked, eyeing her second cousin with a jokingly accusatory glare. Clint raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Tony Stark smiled and shook her powerful hand. His grin was charming but a bit irritating.

"No. That was one I came up with when he mentioned you."

"Oh really? He mentioned me?" She'd heard Stark the first time, but she was giving her cousin crap—she had always been good at that with her friends and family. The sarcastic, roguish attitude came from her father's side of the family. The Barton side.

"A few times," he repeated. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here while I send him to Ohio for a few days?" He was in on the lie that Clint was going to Iowa not Ohio.

"If I get scared I'll give you a call," Violet-Sky promised with a cheeky grin. Tony smirked. Violet-Sky turned to the last person in the room. A tall woman with red hair and forest green eyes.

"This is Natasha Romanoff," Clint said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Violet-Sky told the woman—whose eyes were cautious and guarded, but still warm and welcoming. They shook hands. Violet-Sky got the feeling Ms. Romanoff was hiding something—but she didn't know what. Clint's young cousin hoped that her secret wasn't that obvious—and something told her it wasn't.

When they got back to Clint's apartment, she went and collapsed on the couch. Her cousin went and got in the shower. She could hear him singing—but she couldn't tell what the song was until he hit the chorus.

"I could be brown/ I could be blue/ I could be Vi-o-let Sky/ I could be hurtful/ I could be purple/ I could be anything you like…"

Violet-Sky couldn't help but burst into painful gales of laughter, clutching her sides. For one, Clint didn't seem like the type to sing in the shower. For two, her memories of that song were very positive. Her dad used to poke her in the stomach whenever it played "Vi-o-let Sky." It hurt to think of him, but the memory was so happy it made her laugh. And for three, he was slightly out-of-tune. She slapped her knees, curled up in a ball, and cackled until she cried.

Clint came out in a bathrobe and sweatpants a few minutes later, his hair wet and a towel in his hand. "What's so funny?" he asked, sounding a bit hurt and a bit confused. She smiled as he took the towel to his hair and started to shake his hands back and forth—drying it.

"Nothing. Dad just used to sing me that song," she replied. "And you don't strike me as the type to sing in the shower." Clint smiled.

* * *

Clint left for Iowa the next morning. It was a Friday—Violet-Sky got to sleep in for an extra hour. When she got to work, Tristan was laughing. "You never take days off of work," he remarked. "I thought you'd died or something,"

"So you're laughing?" Violet-Sky asked sarcastically.

"Well… something like that," Tristan admitted.

"Glad you're so concerned for my welfare."

"Violet-Sky, I'm always concerned for your welfare; know that please. Just when I found out you were alive, I was so relieved I _laughed._ SHIELD would be boring without you," Tristan said. Violet-Sky couldn't help but grin. She punched him lightly in the arm and strode into the gym, ignoring his mock-hurt look. She attacked her training that day.

"I'm going to get this," she told herself time and again. "One more."

_One more_ was the mantra Tristan had trained her by. She knew those two words would get her to Level Six eventually.

When she was finally done at lunch break, she collapsed in the locker room on the floor. The fan was blowing right on her, fluttering the hairs that had escaped her braid. She was sprawled out over the linoleum, her eyes closed. The fan dried her sweat and cooled her off.

* * *

**End Note: Sorry if some lines end up center-aligned or whatever. My computer hates Copy-and-Paste (but I love it). Just one more thing.** "**Gottaloveastory", while I fully appreciate the supportive review, please refrain from such language on reviews in future. Thanks for the follows and favorites and reviews and such! You guys all make my day! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!**

**Cass**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: This is a shorter chapter than usual, sorry. If I did what I was going to do, this chapter would be annoyingly long. So I didn't. But I hope you guys will enjoy it anyway. This is Chapter 8, I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

"Barton, I know you're nervous about Violet-Sky, but I'll have her over for dinner and I'll keep an eye on her, don't worry about her," Tony told the archer over the earpiece. Clint—fully decked out in his SHIELD combat clothes—scratched the back of his head and said nothing. "Barton, I promise." Clint raised his eyebrows.

"If any harm comes to her, I'll hold you responsible," he snapped before he hung up. He clutched his bow tightly in his hand. His blue-gray eyes scanned everywhere. The night clung to him like a shroud. He liked it that way. He went off through the shadows, determined to finish Stark's mission and get back to Violet-Sky before anything bad could happen to her. He was growing very fond of the young girl—she was hard not to like.

* * *

Violet-Sky's phone rang as she got out of the shower to change for the end of the work day. She picked it up and pressed it between her ear and her shoulder as she put her proper clothing on.

"Hello?"

"Violet-Sky, it's Tony Stark."

"Hello Mr. Stark," she greeted kindly. There was a snicker on the other end of the line.

"Your cousin told me it would give him peace-of-mind if I had you over for dinner tonight. And tomorrow night, and the night after that. Until he gets home. Will you come by Stark Tower tonight at six?" he asked. It was five-forty-five.

"I'll probably be late. I'll be walking," Violet-Sky told him.

"Well, how 'bout I send someone to pick you up? Are you at Clint's?"

"No I'm still at work. How about your person picks me up at the coffee shop on thirty-ninth?" she suggested. Tony agreed and hung up. Having finished changing during the conversation, Violet-Sky went trotting from the SHIELD building. It would take her five minutes to get to thirty-ninth. Driving, it would take any person about ten to get there with traffic from the Stark Tower.

But when she got to the coffee shop Myrddin worked at, she saw Iron Man himself standing on the curb. She jogged over to it in her skirt and leggings.

"Hi," she greeted. The helmet's face mask lifted up. The suit was empty. She recoiled in surprise.

"Please step around the back and climb in," a British male voice said. More than a little confused, Violet-Sky eyed the metal suit. She itched her eyebrow in thought. Even though she worked for SHIELD, things like that didn't happen to her every day.

"It's a bit big isn't it?" she pointed out.

"You'll be fine," the voice said. Violet-Sky stepped behind the suit. It opened up and she climbed in. It took off for Stark Tower. She screamed and whooped all the way there. She'd never flown before.

The suit landed on the landing pad and as it walked, machines came out and began to take it off of her. She watched them work in wonder, completely amazed. Her jaw dropped. She kept walking by herself when the suit was all gone.

"Yeah, that reaction comes a lot," Stark commented. "Hello Baby Barton." There was a whole table set for three people—Violet-Sky, Stark, and his girlfriend Pepper. The billionaire pulled her chair out for her and scooted it back in when she sat down. She was rather impressed. He was much kinder than the media seemed to suggest.

"Hi Stark," she replied. "That voice in the suit—"

"Oh that's just JARVIS. He runs most of my tech," Stark explained.

The dinner was quite nice. Violet-Sky found she was quite enjoying herself. Pepper was quite nice and Tony was being quite hospitable. It would have been hard for her to not have fun.

When the dinner was over, they chatted over ice cream—and champagne for the adults—until it was eleven at night. When the clock chimed, Violet-Sky rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted. And she still had to get home.

"I need to get home," she finally said.

"Take the suit. It'll come right back here."

"Thank you for being so kind to me," she told them. "Both of you."

"It was the least we could do for you and Clint. You must be lonely," Pepper said. "Feel free to call or come by anytime."

"Thank you. Good night. Sleep well," she wished upon them.

* * *

**End Note: So, I've come up with a dilemma, the gap between where I'm publishing and where I'm actually writing is a bit bigger than I initially thought (about 11 pages on a Word 2010 document). So the story might be a little slower than I prefer for a bit longer than I thought. But it will get better - I promise! Please just bear with me! I really appreciate how much people are liking this story! Thank you all so very much!**

**Cass**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: So, here's something funny, I didn't publish chapter 7 - or this one - right on time because (well first I was doing Math homework) but really because I've been writing a FanFiction for a book that hasn't even been published yet - and won't be for another several years. My best friend is writing a novel and that's what I've been doing. Hahaha. I know, I'm weird.**

**So, I've been thinking about writing a series of one-shots (NOT the "What the What?" I wrote for_ Percy Jackson_) under the _Doctor Who_ category, about Twelve and new OC companion (after Clara leaves) who is a Time Lady named Cassodembreankia (Cass) and each one-shot has a crossover with some other fandom I like. _Sherlock, Heroes, Merlin, Once Upon a Time, Stargate (1994), Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, Arrow, Star Wars,_ the newer_ Star Trek_s - just to name a few (for a whole list of all of my fandoms: it's on my profile). Does that sound good? It won't be in the Xover category because each one will be different. I haven't started writing them yet, because I was wondering if people would actually be interested. If you think that sounds interesting, let me know!**

**To: "BleachLover11" Myrddin is _not_ Loki, I'm sorry. I just wanted to insert Merlin from the BBC TV show for fun. See if any _Merlin_ fans were reading this. It was something of an Easter-Egg for them. I think it would have been awesome too if it _had_ been Loki. But it's not. _Myrddin Emrys_ was Merlin's real name in the Welsh stories, and _Merlin_ is Myrddin's Latin-ized form. _Myrddin_ is pronounced "Mere-thin" (if you didn't get the from that chapter) and it sounds like Merlin - that's where it came from.**

* * *

"How about I tell you a bedtime story?" Clint asked, on speaker phone as she turned down her covers. She fell onto the bed.

"I grew out of those a long time ago," she told him.

"Humor me," he said.

"Fine. Go ahead."

"Tony Stark told me this story. It's all true," Clint started. "Hawkeye wasn't always good. When the fiasco a year and a half ago started, when Loki first came to Earth, he was bad. Not by choice. Loki's magic scepter put him under a spell that made him slave to the god's bidding. He hurt many of the people he loved, including his Black Widow, his best friend. He almost caused the Avengers' base to fall from where it stood. It hurt many people to see him like that. Hawkeye even revealed 'classified' secrets—according to Stark—to Loki. Hawkeye, your favorite Avenger, almost _kept_ the Avengers from saving the world."

"Yeah, but he still saved my life when he became good again," she pointed out. "To me, it was what he did when it mattered the most that counted. He may not have always been good, but he was when he dragged the bus door open and saved my life."

"Have you told me that story before?"

"Nope. I'll tell it to you as _your_ bedtime story tomorrow," she said.

"Good night Violet-Sky."

"Night Clint. Love you," she replied without thinking. That was how she used to say goodnight to her parents—except with "Mom" or "Dad"; not "Clint". She turned bright red.

There was a long pause on Clint's end. Finally, "I love you too," was whispered into her phone. He hung up. She stared at her ceiling for a while. It felt strange but good to have a family to love again. While her parents' loss still stung like crazy, having someone to love and to love her back eased the pain just a little. She turned off the light and went to sleep.

She slept in. It was Saturday and she was exhausted and overwhelmed. She rolled over to light streaming through her window. She hadn't seen such a glorious sight in a long time. Often she woke up long before dawn and ended up working until dusk.

She made herself some breakfast and turned on the TV. She scrolled through the channels, muttering comments to herself. "Boring… stupid… cheesy… childish… AvengerWatch… weird… just why?" she trailed on and on. Sprawled on the sofa eating cereal, she was more relaxed than she'd been in several days. She loved her Saturdays. No commitments, nothing to do, no SHIELD, not an ounce of training. Sometimes, that was just what she needed.

Her phone started playing her usual ringtone.

"Are you _still _in your pajamas?" Clint demanded.

"How would you know?" she retorted.

"We're family. I have some of the same mannerisms you do. It was a lucky guess. Was I right?" he asked. There was a teasing tone in his voice.

"Well… yeah," Violet-Sky admitted.

"Thought so. What're you up to?"

"Just watching TV and eating cereal. I _love_ not having to go to work on Saturdays."

"What's so bad about your work that you don't like going in?" Clint asked.

"Nothing. It can just be really stressful sometimes," Violet-Sky replied. "There's always a lot of stuff to do and very little time to rest. I'm on my feet all day and sweating by the time I'm done." There was a grunt from Clint's end of the line.

"You never come home sweating. Your hair's just wet," he pointed out.

"They have showers there. I clean up before I come back," she said. Clint picked out how she didn't use the word _home_. Again.

"Well, okay then. I've still got some stuff to do. I'll be back soon. I promise."

"Bye."

* * *

**End Note: Sorry for the really short chapter. The next several are going to be similar - maybe a little longer. I'm getting to the main plot, trust me. Hang in there. :-S Hope you're still enjoying!**

**Sorry if I didn't update this on time, I've been busy writing a book I plan to get published one day - and watching a TV/YouTube thing called "Studio C". Anyway, hope you have a good day!**

**Cass**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: So, I decided this Chapter is going to be longer than the last couple, because I thought all the faithful readers deserved it. Originally it was going to be just over 500 words - it currently stands at a bit over 1,000. :-S Oh well. And the main plot is coming up soon! WOOOOOOOHOOOOOOO! I'm done now.**

**I've also decided to dedicate this story to "callieandjack", whose FanFiction called "Bruises" was what inspired me to write "Under a Violet-Sky". callieandjack has also recently favorited my fiction here - something that made me squeal with joy when I saw it on my email inbox. If you want something like "Violet-Sky", go read "Bruises."**

**To "callieandjack" and others: I'm glad you guys like Tony's nicknames for Violet-Sky. When she finally learns who her cousin is, Stark will start calling her Hawkeye the Younger, and Mini-Hawkeye and such - along with Baby Barton and his others. I don't think he'll ever really call her Violet-Sky. Hahaha. To "**

* * *

_CRASH_! Violet-Sky winced. The mug was shattered on the floor. A shard of ceramic embedded itself into the top of her bare foot. A spurt of red landed on the tile of the kitchen. She rolled her eyes, bent over, and pried the cream-colored ceramic out of her skin. Instantly shoving a dishrag onto the open wound, she began to clean up the rest of the broken mug. When a pile of shards was in a bucket meant for broken glass and the crimson was removed, she went into the bathroom and started to clean her wound in the bathtub. Blood was everywhere, but there was no pain. Violet-Sky—used to _hours_ of training with Tristan—considered herself impervious to minor pains.

Her phone started playing an annoying piano concerto in the other room. Rolling her eyes, she hoped whomever was calling would understand she was busy and couldn't reach her phone. She'd call them back later and explain her foot had been split open—not exactly the most pleasant situation to have a telephone conversation during.

When she finally got herself cleaned up, she looked at her missed calls. _Clint_. Closing her eyes in exasperation, she called him back.

"Why didn't you answer?!" he demanded. "I got worried."

"Sorry! I was in the shower!" Violet-Sky lied, glancing down at her wrapped foot. She heard Clint's sigh.

"Well, I just called to say I found a use for that dress of yours you couldn't wear to prom because half of your school blew up before you could," he announced proudly. Violet-Sky felt her jaw go slack. She hadn't _actually_ expected him to look for a reason for her to wear her prom dress.

"And… what's that?" she asked warily.

"Tony Stark is throwing a party at the Tower for my colleagues when I get back and I have a 'plus one' on my invitation. Thought you could join me. But no, you can't have champagne or wine."

"Wasn't going to ask. Had to have some once for some medicinal thing—hated it. Don't worry about keeping me away from alcohol."

"Did you have a good dinner with Mr. Stark?"

_Crap!_ Violet-Sky thought. She'd had to cancel because of her foot. But she told Stark the same lie she was going to tell Clint—much to her chagrin. "I had to cancel. I was called in to cover a shift for my friend Tristan. I ate when I got back here."

"Oh. I'll be back the day after tomorrow okay? Then we can party."

"Okay." Violet-Sky smiled.

"Love you."

Violet-Sky didn't hesitate before replying. "Love you too."

"Bye Violet-Sky."

"Bye Clint."

In Iowa, Clint grinned when they hung up. The party wasn't just for him getting back. It was for her promotion to Level Four (bypassing Three entirely)—and he planned to reveal to her who he really was. Whether or not it would actually happen was another matter entirely. Remembering their conversation about Hawkeye being her favorite Avenger, Clint felt excited to tell her—even if she was angry at him for keeping secrets from family. Well, family was the one you kept things from to protect them.

Of course, Hawkeye was convinced Violet-Sky didn't need protecting.

* * *

Violet-Sky's eyes glittered in the moonlight. She sat at her window in the apartment and watched it rise. Once it passed the pollution layer, it turned from yellow to white. She'd seen that happen before when she'd spent a winter in Salt Lake City, Utah—the city and state with some of the worst winter air in the country. It was gross.

She realized she hadn't told Clint the story of how Hawkeye saved her life when the Chitauri invaded. Oh well. She'd just have to tell him when he got back.

Staring across the city, she thought she saw a shooting star—but that was impossible. In New York, there was so much light pollution she could barely see the stars. She made a face of irritation and pulled her blinds shut. Limping into the bathroom, she set about changing the bandage. She hadn't needed stitches—and even if she had, she wouldn't have gone to the hospital. She didn't want Clint to come home early. More for his sake than hers. The wound had mostly closed, and she disinfected it with a wince and a bit lip. Wrapping it in a new bandage, Violet-Sky hummed a tune to herself.

As she slept that night, she dreamt again about the Battle of New York. But her mind decided it wanted to be funny. It twisted Hawkeye's indistinct form she had only barely seen into her cousin. She saw Clint's hairstyle, and his gait as the Avenger who saved her ran away from the bus.

She woke up feeling a surge of annoyance pushing against her chest. Sunday. The sun was streaming through her blinds. She rolled out of her bed and checked her foot—it had healed significantly. She raised her eyebrows with approval and limped out of her room into the empty apartment. Except it wasn't empty.

A woman with vibrant red hair was standing in the kitchen. Natasha Romanoff. "Hi Violet-Sky," she greeted. The teen girl's amethyst eyes blinked in her surprise.

"Ms. Romanoff, what a pleasant surprise." Violet-Sky prided herself on her cordiality.

"Clint asked me to come and check on—what happened to your foot?" Natasha demanded. Violet-Sky shifted her hurt extremity out of sight behind her other one uncomfortably. The tall, slim woman swooped down on her and examined the expertly-wrapped bandage.

"I dropped a mug. Shard cut me. I didn't tell Clint and I'm going to replace the mug today. I don't want him to worry about me. It wasn't deep enough to need stitches and it didn't even hurt. Please don't tell him. It won't be completely healed by the time he gets home tomorrow, but I'm going to tell him then. _Please_ don't tell him… Natasha," Violet-Sky explained. The green-eyed woman stared at her, opening her mouth.

"Where did you learn to wrap injuries like this?" she asked. Violet-Sky took that as a pass—she wouldn't tell Clint until he got home. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sports Med class in school last year," Violet-Sky lied. She'd learned from Tristan at SHIELD way back when she first started. But Natasha took the bait and seemed to think her reason was legitimate—much to Violet-Sky's relief.

"Anyway, Clint sent me to check up on you. I'm one of his coworkers," Natasha said. Violet-Sky nodded understandingly. She'd gathered that when they met at the Stark Tower.

"He's that worried about me?" she asked. "He's been asking Tony Stark to have me over for dinner until he gets back. It's like he thinks I'm ten and can't be alone." Natasha smiled. There was a hint of melancholy in her face. She sat down on the couch. Violet-Sky sat across from her in an armchair and crossed her legs. She felt kind of awkward—being in her pajamas and all—but stayed where she was.

"Violet-Sky, Clint hasn't had a family in a very long time. Certainly not one he's been close to. He probably just wants to protect you. I don't think he wants to lose you too—the way he lost the rest of them," Natasha informed the young SHIELD agent. She bit her lower lip, her violet eyes flashing. She wanted to open her mouth and loudly retort that she was fully capable of handling herself, but she was still under Gag as to where she worked and what she did. So she kept her comments inside. She uncrossed her legs and stood up.

"Can I offer you anything? I think we have a coffee maker—but I'm allergic to caffeine so I wouldn't know how to make coffee—but I can try," Violet-Sky offered instead. Natasha smiled.

"No thanks. I gotta be on my way. I won't tell Clint about your foot."

"Thanks Natasha."

"Goodbye Miss Barton."

"Bye Ms. Romanoff."

And Natasha was gone. Violet-Sky pursed her lips. She didn't even think about how Natasha could have gotten in. She just made herself some breakfast and went off to replace the shattered mug.

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**End Note: Ouch. I would hate to drop a mug on my foot. And the story should start speeding up soon and becoming better and less boring - if that's indeed how it's been.**

**Sorry I didn't update this yesterday like my internal schedule told me to, I was at a writing buddy's house and then had a bunch of junk to do when I got home. Enjoy it nonetheless!**

**callieandjack brought up a good question of "Why does Clint keep his association with SHIELD a secret?" and I've said a few times that he's under orders to, but that's apparently not been very clear. So here's another reason: I've made up this SHIELD rule that Level Sixes can't reveal who they are to family members of lower Security Levels of SHIELD unless said lower family member already knows. Which Violet-Sky does not. So Clint says nothing. And it is going _very _well.**

**Hope you're still enjoying!**

**Cass**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Hey, so, the "Updating on a schedule" thing isn't working very well for me, so now I'm just going to update... pretty much whenever I feel like it or it's been a while. Sorry.**

**To "callieandjack": I didn't just dedicate the whole chapter to you. Sorry that was unclear. I'm dedicating the whole STORY to you. :-) Hope you enjoy it! To "Anon [Guest]": I haven't been keeping up with Agents of SHIELD sorry. But as I recall, in the very first epidose, Agent Ward asked Coulson something along the lines of "Do the Avengers know you're alive?" To which Agent Coulson replies: "They're not Level Seven." As in meaning: ****_NO!_**** But if that has changed in the many episodes I've not seen, I'm sorry. To me Clint is still on Level Six. And you weren't being a nag. You brought up a good point.**

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_BANG!_ Violet-Sky ducked as a bullet shot over her head. It plowed into the marble wall behind her and let off a puff of dust. "Holy Mother of Pearl!" she muttered under her breath. She had been on her way to the ceramics' store—why couldn't she just go there in peace?

A figure robed in all-black flung itself at her. _A spandex morph suit? Really?_ she thought as she twisted under his arm. She kicked him in the back of the leg and watched him stumble before hitting him really hard over the head. He fell to the ground, seemingly unconscious. She stooped to take off his mask when his hand lashed out and grabbed her wrist. He stood and twisted. Her arm would have broken had she not used his momentum to swing herself the same way he was going. Her heel smashed into his patella.

"What—are you—playing—at?" she grunted as their fight increased in intensity. "What—have I—done—to you?"

Something of his hit her shoulder. Her skin split—leaving a tiny cut that seeped through her T-shirt. The pain was minor, and she took her revenge in a furious frenzy. Her every move was enraged and more powerful than any girl her age had the right to be. But she didn't care. She was a Barton—when had she really cared about everything? Never!

Finally, she had him on the ground, her knee in the small of his back. One of his arms was trapped in hers and she had him in a headlock. He struggled futilely. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"An old friend of your uncle's," a voice choked out.

"I don't _have_ an uncle," she spat.

"Oh that's right, Violet-Sky-No-Family," the man scorned harshly.

"I have a _family_, just not an _uncle_," Violet-Sky retorted, using his same tone. Her mind shot to Tristan, Clint, even Commander Hall. She pressed her knee deeper into his back. He groaned with pain. She smirked. How had she just had a death match with Morph-Suit-Man in the middle of New York City and no one noticed? Oh well.

"Violet-Sky?" an incredulous voice asked loudly. Turning her head, she saw Tristan, in a T-shirt and jeans, staring at her blankly.

"Oh. Hello," she greeted. Her prisoner coughed blood up onto the sidewalk.

"Do you want me to take him back to work? I'm sure we can get him to talk," Tristan offered. Violet-Sky grinned.

"Sure, if you want," she said. Her trainer took her prisoner into his hands and dragged him off, leaving Violet-Sky alone to stand there awkwardly until remembering she had an errand in the ceramics' shop to run. She plodded off, glancing over her shoulder as she went—she was _not_ going to be surprised by anymore Morph-Suit-Men. Her muscles were tense and prepped the whole way to the shop. Even through her purchase she waited for the spring.

But she got back to Clint's apartment without anything happening. She placed the new mug—which looked exactly like the old one—in the cupboard and went over to the TV. She played on her phone while searching for something to watch. Now whenever Clint called, a song from Disney/Pixar's _Brave _would play. She smiled with satisfaction and found a TV show worth watching.

She sat there relaxing for several minutes before getting edgy. The attack hadn't sat well on her conscience. She was waiting every second for someone to break through the window on the fire escape with a stronger, faster gun than before.

Her phone rang loudly. It was Tristan. "He won't tell us anything yet. But we'll break him down. I promise. In the meantime, be careful."

"You certainly got him there fast," she commented.

"Well, thank you Miss Barton."

"Bye Tristan." She hung up before he could say anything. She was always careful, always ready for everything. Plus, she wasn't really in the mood to talk to him—or anyone. The silence of Clint's apartment over the past couple days had been welcoming. She found she quite liked it quiet. She turned off the TV and went into her room. Hanging on her closet door was the dress.

It was heavy and beautiful. She stared at it—much as she had the year before when she'd received it as a gift from her parents. Then the gas main in the gym (where Prom was being held) blew up, taking half the school with it. The event she had been looking forward to the most was cancelled. Her heart had shattered. But the musings were getting her nowhere. She flopped down onto her bed face first and felt her back ache as it relaxed.

She loved Sundays. They were so much calmer than the rest of her week. It was great to just lie there with her hair spread out on the pillow and chill out.

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**End Note: Sorry if this chapter is a little shorter than usual. I haven't had any inspiration to keep writing this story, so it's been slow around here in my TARDIS. I'm so, so, so, so, _so_ terribly sorry.**

**Hope y'all enjoyed!**

**Cass**


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